


Touch Phobia

by SherlockWolf



Category: Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Character Study, Dancing, F/F, Friendship/Love, M/M, Multi, Touch Phobia, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockWolf/pseuds/SherlockWolf
Summary: The first person who touched him, outside the context of battle and running for their lives, was Jesse. She took his hand in hers and deposited a healing materia. Cloud felt a rush of flight response, and as soon as she released him he took a step back before he could get himself under control. He hid his reaction behind the sassy and hostile personality he’d put on for the members of Avalanche, but his heart wouldn’t stop racing.The second person was the flower peddler on the street, clutching his arm as strange creatures in robes whooshed passed them. He was more afraid of the creatures than her, and yet the stress built.The third person was Tifa. She took his arm, led him along on little merc missions around the slum. They fought well together, but that didn’t stop his body from howling at him to run.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart, Zack Fair/Cloud Strife
Comments: 4
Kudos: 114





	Touch Phobia

To say that Cloud was uncomfortable was the understatement of the century. High heels were impossible to walk in at reasonable speeds, the hair extensions were pulling constantly on his scalp and would be sure to give him a headache within the hour, and the corset was so tight he thought that if he fell over he’d be trapped like a beetle, unable to move his arms properly to get back up. Okay, so maybe he was being a bit dramatic about that last one. Yes the corset was stiff, but it wasn’t _that_ bad.

The worst part was the men outside Honey Bee. Cloud had never had men _shout_ at him before. Sure, he got a comment about his looks every now and then _to his face_ where he could make the choice to flirt back or roll his eyes and tell the guy off. But this…Cloud felt _threatened_ by the hoots and hollers thrown his way as he and Aerith made their way to Don Corneo’s mansion. If not for the mission, he would have liked to rip the dress off and beat the assholes barefoot in his boxers.

Corneo himself was a nightmare. Not only was he downright creepy, he had no concept of boundaries. Cloud had zero tolerance for him, which dropped to negative when the bright flash of a camera went off. He didn’t owe this man anything, had no investment in the scumbag’s hurt feelings, and so it was easy to rebuke and insult him. Thankfully Corneo never laid hands on him, or Cloud would have broken his fingers on instinct.

See, something Cloud had determined, after a few days of being around so. Many. People. Was that he did _not like_ to be touched. At all. By anyone. For any reason. He put up with it in combat, _touched others_ when it was necessary, such as helping them evade harm, but that was the limit of his capacity for touch. Otherwise, it made his skin crawl and veins bubble with discomfort.

Whether he had always been that way, or if it was a development due to the mako or perhaps his SOLDIER training, Cloud couldn’t be sure. His memories of his time as a SOLDIER were hazy, assumedly a side-effect of the mako. And before he’d joined Shinra, the only person who touched him was, naturally, his mother.

The trek through the sewers was disgusting, but not nearly as much as witnessing Shinra destroy one of their own sectors for petty revenge. Cloud’s hatred for the company exponentiated as he watched Biggs and Jesse dye, Aerith be shoved around by officers on-screen, the support tower explode in flames which bathed Sector Seven orange.

Shinra needed to be destroyed.

Late that night, or perhaps early morning the next day, Cloud followed footsteps out of Aerith’s house. He found Tifa atop the hill blanketed in flowers. She was hurting so much. Shinra had taken so much from her, and only continued to take more. And so, Cloud fought the visceral discomfort and wrapped his arms around Tifa, holding her close. Really, it was…nice. Almost. Cloud wished his body wouldn’t enact its flight response at touch, because holding Tifa made him feel like he could protect her from anything. And he wanted to protect her. He held her tight to prove to himself that touch _wasn’t bad_. But then Tifa pulled away before Cloud had calmed his racing heart. Oh well. Next time.

And then Sephiroth threw a wrench into _everything_. With President Shinra dead and Aerith rescued, all that mattered to Cloud was pursing the not-so-ghost from his past. It was luck—and perhaps greater purpose—that kept his friends with him. Regardless of their motivation, Cloud was grateful not to be alone as Sephiroth led them along a path of destruction.

When that destruction came to an end nearly a year later, Cloud’s life wasn’t the only one having to rebuild from ashes. Much like his memories, Midgar had been ripped to shreds. Unlike Cloud, Midgar had plenty of hands available to restore some semblance of what it once was in the city of Edge—Cloud’s memories could only be repaired with time.

The memories trickled in, one by one, returning to him the life and personality he’d lost. Memories came with ghosts of emotions, emotions colored with love and joy and laughter. Not just his life—that of his best friend’s. And with _Zack,_ the reason for Cloud’s severe discomfort with touch made itself known. What he discovered, as years passed and Edge grew into a full-functioning city, was that Zack had touched him _all the time_.

Cloud’s discovery peaked one evening when Tifa, Aerith, and himself were hanging out in the newly constructed Seventh Heaven. The salvaged juke box was playing hit after hit, and eventually Tifa and Aerith pushed chairs and tables out of the way to make a proper dance floor. Cloud watched them, impressed by how easily they moved around the room. Perhaps they’d done this before.

Aerith pulled him from his seat, taking the lead while Tifa took a break for some water. As they swirled around the room, Cloud suddenly felt a larger hand in his, a warm hand on his hip, and instinctively looked up in search of pink cheeks and a blinding smile.

~

They were in Nibelheim, on a mission with Shinra to search the contents of the local mansion. It was only Zack, Sephiroth, and Cloud, no other infantry men or officers with them. The SOLDIERs had gotten hotel rooms while Cloud opted to stay with his mom.

Zack had been left alone for the night, Sephiroth buried in the mansion's library, and Cloud at home. He'd tried to pass the time by reading newspapers, but there was only so much reading he could handle before he got antsy and needed action. And so, he went on a walk around town, admiring the wooden architecture and the stars above.

When he passed Cloud's house, he paused. Through the window he saw Cloud's mother sitting at the dining table, reading a book and munching on some food he couldn't determine. He watched for a few more moments, hoping to catch sight of Cloud. He didn't, so he moved on down the street.

He made it a handful of steps when a door swung open, and the sound of his name had him look over his shoulder. Cloud stood in the street. Silly guy had put his helmet on, so determined to hide his visit home from Tifa. It looked funny in combination with his pajama pants and t-shirt.

Cloud put his hands on his hips and—probably—glared at him.

“Mom said she saw you out here. Did you need something?”

“Oh, no. I got bored by myself so I’ve been sight-seeing.”

“Yourself? What happened to Sephiroth?”

“At the library.”

“Ah. Well, you can come in, if you want.”

Zack didn’t hesitate. Hanging out with Cloud was a lot better than aimless wandering.

Inside, Cloud’s mom greeted him with a wave and a yawn, excusing herself to bed. After removing his helmet, Cloud had opened his mouth to protest, but she’d simply smiled and retreated up the stairs. Left alone, quiet big-band music filled the space between them. It wasn’t often Zack heard this music, but whenever he did it reminded him of being a kid, his own mother teaching him to swing dance.

Cloud didn’t seem to know what to say or do, now that he and Zack were alone. He floated over to the windows and closed the blinds, then checked the sink for any dirty dishes, then made his way to the stereo and began fidgeting with the volume.

“You should turn it up.” Zack suggested, in interest of both calming Cloud’s nerves and fulfilling his own wish to dance.

Cloud did so, and Zack set his sword against the wall by the door. Then he began to sway to the music, shuffling around the living room as he tried to get his feet to remember. It took a few minutes, but he got his rhythm back. He looked up to find Cloud watching him, cheeks dusted pink as they always were when he and Zack were alone.

That blush always made Zack wish he’d met Cloud under different circumstances, the kind where rank and rules didn’t get in the way.

“Dance with me?” He offered, holding out a hand.

Timidly, Cloud slipped his hand in Zack’s, admitting, “I don’t know how.”

“Okay, I’ll teach you.”

Taking Cloud’s other hand, Zack distanced them the foot or so apart needed for proper footwork.

“So, when I step forward with my left,” he moved as he spoke, tapping the tip of Cloud’s socked foot with his boot, “you step back with your right.”

Zack pushed on Cloud’s right hand, and Cloud stepped back.

“Then same with the other side.”

They repeated the movements a few times, until Cloud learned to watch his feet rather than Zack’s face, however endearing that was. Once they could move to the beat of the music, Zack taught him another move, and another, until they were effectively dancing. It wasn’t super technical, but it flowed and Cloud was smiling. That was all that mattered.

They danced until the clock struck eleven—the only way they knew time passed was that it was a coo-coo clock, and a parade of wooden birds went around in a circle while it chimed. Zack thought it was adorable, but Cloud glared at it as if it was personally offending him.

“Getting late.” Zack commented when the clock had returned to its unassuming, quiet state.

“Yeah.”

They had yet to let go of their hands, so Zack kept them swaying in place, taking in the growing disappointment on Cloud’s face and trying to think of ways to counteract it. Ideas flashed through his mind, all of them impractical and risky. There was one, though, he could pull off without issue. When the song ended he pulled Cloud to his chest, letting go of his hands to drape his own arms over Cloud’s shoulders. Cloud stared up at him, eyes wide and cheeks red.

“You know what a hug is, right?” Zack couldn’t help but tease—Cloud had never struck him as the ineptest when it came to touch, but his hesitance at a hug was downright silly.

“ _Yes_.” Cloud grumbled, and wrapped his arms around Zack’s waist.

Satisfied, Zack dropped his chin atop Cloud’s head, and just held him. Moments where Zack didn’t feel the need to talk were rare, but with Cloud tucked safely in his arms and music taking up all the necessary sound, he let his voice rest.

Cloud relaxed against him, turning his head to the side so he and Zack could fit together seamlessly.

“I wish,” Cloud murmured eventually, “we could have this forever.”

“Wishing doesn’t get you far.” Zack replied quietly, believing what he said but hating it nonetheless.

“What if I said…it was my dream?”

“I thought your dream was to be a SOLDIER.”

“Dreams can change, can’t they?”

Zack gave a fake gasp, “You, Cloud Strife, having a _selfish_ dream? Who are you and what’d you do with my best friend?”

“I’ve always been selfish.” Cloud argued, but Zack didn’t believe that.

Regardless of if Cloud thought he joined Shinra for his own hubris, Zack knew better. Cloud had grown up in wartimes, and wanted to be a SOLDIER to protect the people he loved. Zack knew that like he knew the mess of his own hair in the morning.

Zack thought of Cloud’s hair in the morning. Would it crinkle and fold differently from waking up pressed against Zack’s chest?

“I’m selfish, too, you know.” He murmured, images of domesticity flashing through his mind.

Cloud scoffed, “No way.”

“Yeah way.”

“How?”

Of course Cloud would want details. Zack should have thought a little bit more before speaking. Oh well. Too late now.

“I want you to become a SOLDIER, too, so we can be together.”

Another song ended, dousing the room in heavy silence.

“I know it’s ridic—.” Zack began as the next song started, but Cloud cut him off by stepping back.

His expression was fierce with determination, inner fire lighting his blue eyes.

“Okay. I will. I’ll keep trying, and improving, until I pass the test.”

“Cloud—.”

“I mean it, Zack. I want to be a SOLDIER, but it wouldn’t mean as much to me anymore without you.”

Zack pulled Cloud back in, this time for a tight hug. He buried his nose in Cloud’s hair, taking in the smell of earthy shampoo. How lucky was he that this man, who had picked up his happiness and given it back to him after the loss of Angeal, wanted to spend his life with him?

“I love you, Cloud. So much.”

“Love you, too.” Cloud squeezed, making Zack choke on air for a second.

They laughed at the sound he made, Cloud giggling through his apology. And then, Zack had to pull away. He picked up his sword beside the door, then paused. He turned back to Cloud, a playful smile tugging on his lips.

“You know, this little hallway doesn’t have any windows.”

Cloud rolled his eyes, “Don’t start that. Get out of here.”

Zack laughed, grabbing Cloud since he was within arm’s reach and pulling him close again. The thing about Cloud was that no matter how much he protested, he always came to Zack willingly. No resistance, no hand over his mouth, only grumbling and leaning forward. This time Zack only kissed him between his eyes, ruffling his hair for good measure.

“Night, Spike.”

“Goodnight.” Cloud sighed, amused.

Back out on the street, the cold night air bit at Zack’s skin, but the warmth within him prevented it from chilling his bones.

~

It had been a long, long time since Tifa and Aerith had seen Cloud have one of his debilitating migraines. They knew he still had them, once in a while, because he would come home from his long motorcycle trips completely out of it.

Thankfully, they still knew the signs. Cloud had frozen up while dancing with Aerith, and his face had screwed up with pain. His hands shot from hers, gripping at his head as he doubled over. Aerith took charge, pulling Cloud down to a squatting position so that he wouldn’t fall and hurt himself. Tifa rushed over with a glass of water ready in her hands. Then, all they could do was wait.

~

When Cloud came back to himself, he squinted against the lights even though they were as dim as ever. Tifa leaned more into his view, her shadow giving him reprieve.

“Cloud?” Aerith’s voice was quiet, laced with worry.

Cloud sat on the floor, still massaging the right side of his head. He looked up at Aerith and gave her a sad smile.

“It was…Zack. Dancing.” Was all he had the energy to tell her.

Because really, how was Cloud supposed to explain that he’d just remembered the first time he and Zack had said _I love you_? Cloud shivered, as though feeling the cold air from the open door on that night in Nibelhiem. He felt Zack’s absence like a stab wound in his gut.

His best friends comforted him as he fell apart on the barroom floor.

~

Some weeks of pondering passed before a lightbulb went off. The reason touch repelled him so violently was because of the loss of Zack. It had to be, as the fear had come only after Zack had gone. The loss had rewired him in more ways than one, Cloud knew, so why not this way, too?

**Author's Note:**

> i've got a touch phobia myself, and i noticed that cloud does a lot of the same things i do to avoid touch/when people touch, and so i decided to play with the headcanon that he's got a touch phobia, too
> 
> thanks for reading and i hope y'all enjoyed! <3 sherlockwolf


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